From Ireland to La Push
by fromIrelandtoLaPush
Summary: When Aoife's Mam dies and she is forced to move half-way around the world she doesn't know what to expect. Living with a man she hasn't seen for 8 years is going to be tough and what's the secret of La Push?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So here's my very first fanfic so PLEASE review and tell me what you think. I'm open to criticism and if it's helpful all the better! Hope you like the story, I'm not that great at writing but the story's being running around in my head for the last few months so I wanted to let it out. Also if you have any questions, fire away - I tend to leave out important details when I write because I already know them.

Disclaimer: I don't not own Twilight or any of the characters in Twilight. Basically I'm not Stephanie Meyers. Unfortunately.

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Chapter 1

Twenty-four minutes. That's how long until the plane lands and I have to meet my dad for the first time in eight years. Which is pretty long, considering I'm almost seventeen. Meeting people isn't unusual for me, seeing as I've moved 27 times, but this was different. This time my mam isn't here. This time I'd be living with this person. This time I might spend longer than six months without moving. I swallowed back my nerves, taking several deep breaths to calm my racing heart. I was going to look bad enough already after my sixteen hour flight from Dublin, Ireland to Port Angeles, America including two changeovers in Chicago and Seattle. without stressing myself out. I nervously smoothed out my asymmetrical tribal print dress and crocheted sleeveless cardigan and checked my make-up for the third time. My long, dark brown, wildly curly hair was pointless even trying to fix. What if I looked stupid? Yeah, I was comfy and I loved the clothes I was wearing but what if he didn't? Maybe I should've worn proper shoes instead of sandals. For all I knew, Quilette's found bare feet offensive! I wanted to make a good first impression. Well I guess it's not a first impression, but I havn't seen him in so long it may as well be.

I have an unusual sense of fashion, boho chic, with elements of indie as well. Most people find it a little odd, but for me, it's perfect. I eyed myself now critically in my small make up mirror, wondering what others saw. Large, green eyes stared back at me, framed by long thick lashes. My pink, pouty mouth was uncharacteristically frowning and there was a tiny frown line between my eyebrows. My high, prominent cheekbones and light copper skin marked me out as Quilette so I guess at least Dad would recognise me. If it weren't for my green eyes, people would mistake me for a true native, at least until I opened my mouth. My heart-shaped face was surrounded by a halo of my dark curly hair that reached my waist. It was impossible to control, and just hung down to my waist in a wild, tangled mess. I guess I'm not ugly but I'm not pretty either, at least not in the conventional sense. I'm too small, barely over five foot; and too thin, my elbows, knees and hips, poking sharply through my skin. I sighed. I can't change what I look like, just like I can't change the fact that in a few minutes this plane will land and I have to walk out of the airport and greet my father.

Just then, the fasten seatbelts sign came on and an announcement came over the intercom, informing us we would be landing in 10 minutes. As this is my first time on a plane, I don't know what to expect, but I wasn't looking forward to falling out of the sky. Kind of weird that this is my first time out of the country, considering the amount of times I've moved but my mam never wanted to holiday abroad and she wasn't so keen on visiting my dad either. I didn't know what had happened between them, my mam not keen on discussing it, so all I knew was my mam went on holidays backpacking around America when she was 19 and came back pregnant with me. Dad was older than mam but I think that was part of the appeal of it, for her. Whatever happened, I'm here now.

"This is another on-time flight with American Eagle. For special offers, please head to our website." The intercom announcement jarred me to life, we had landed without me noticing. Time to get this show on the road. I stood stretching, my legs stiff from the long flight. I grabbed my bag that I had on the plane with me from the overhead cabins and slowly queued to get off the plane. My heart was racing and my palms were sweaty. "I still have to get my bags," I reminded myself and that calmed me down a little. I waited at the baggage collection point for what felt like hours before I saw my four large suitcases coming towards me. It was weird to think my whole life, and all my memories were in those bags. I grabbed a trolley and began to hoist them onto it. After several minutes of pulling, and a few muttered curses, I had them in place. I began to push it with difficulty, and immediately the top suitcase fell off. I sighed, staring at it for a few moments before bending down to try drag it onto the top again.

"Why don't you just ask for a hand?" said a deep, husky voice behind me. I turned around to see who my saviour was. Behind me was one of the tallest, strongest-looking men I've ever seen. Muscles bulged out of his tight shirt in a way that would have been threatening if not for the soft smile playing around his lips. Obviously Quilette, he ticked the boxes for being tall, dark and handsome. My face, never good at hiding my emotions, was shocked, as I took an involuntary step back. The man let out a booming laugh at my reaction.

"Sorry," I blushed, luckily hidden by my skin, "you just gave me a shock".

"I can see that," he smiled. "Let me give you a hand with your bags".

I hesitated, unwilling to allow a stranger to help me, even if he was obviously strong. His smile grew wider, and I gave in. There was no way I'd get them through the airport otherwise.

"Thanks," I said smiling gratefully up to where he stood, a foot and a half above my head.

"No problem, it's the least I could do after scaring you," he teased, giving me a quick wink, before bending down a picking my suitcase off the ground as if it weighed nothing. He picked another one off the top of the trolley with the other hand. "There, you should be able to push it now."

"Sorry, it's just your size. They don't make them like that at home," I said sheepishly. _Not home anymore_, I added silently in my head. "Thanks a million for the help," I paused, "What about your own stuff?"

He motioned to a small bag I hadn't noticed before that he was holding in his hand along with one of my suitcases. "Got it right here. Ready?" he asked.

I nodded and began to push the trolley towards customs and security.

"You packed fairly heavily, how long you planning on staying?" he asked, making polite conversation, as we walked.

"Well actually I'm moving here for good, so this is everything I own," I gestured towards the suitcases.

"Okay in that case, I'd say you actually packed pretty lightly," he admitted.

"Well you know baggage charges these days are ridiculous," I joked. "You didn't pack so heavily yourself," I looked pointedly at his own tiny bag.

"True, true," he laughed, giving away nothing. I handed my passport into security and they waved me through, followed seconds later by The Man Whose Name I Didn't Know.

"I'm Aoife, by the way," I said, fishing.

"Nice Irish name for a nice Irish girl," he commented. "I'm Jacob." He caught my quizzical look at his comment and explained, "Your accent gave it away."

"Suppose I never noticed I had one," I mused.

"No one ever does. What brings you to this part of America anyways?" he asked.

"I'm coming to live with my Dad," I explained, not wanting to go into detail and ruin the conversation.

"He must be from the Rez," he commented, eyeing my features.

"Yeah, so must you," I replied, with a quick grin. He laughed his booming laugh again as we walked into the arrivals lounge. I stopped and began to look around, searching for the face I could hardly remember.

"You okay now?" he asked, reminding me he was still there.

"Oh yeah, sorry, I'm grand. Just ditch them there. Thanks a million for bringing them out for me," I said, smiling my thanks.

"No problem at all, it was nice talking to you. I'm sure I'll see you around the Rez," he smiled back.

We said our goodbyes and I watched as he walked out the door, before resuming my search. A few minutes later, I saw him leaning against the wall on the far side of the room. He looked older, tireder than I remembered but I guess that's only to be expected. As I looked, he glanced up and caught my eye. I smiled at him, and he hesitantly returned it, obviously wondering if I was in fact his daughter or just a random girl smiling. I half waved and his smile widened and he began to make his way over, his eyes not leaving me.

"Hi Aoife," he said, his deep voice rumbling.

"Hi Dad".

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So what do you think so far? I already mentioned reviews but here we go again - I really would appreciate it!


	2. Chapter 2

Okay here's the next chapter. Not too happy with the ending, might go back and fix it. Hope you're enjoying it so far. Oh and Aoife is pronounced E-fa, for all you non-Irish people out there :). Any questions, you know what to do!

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Chapter 2:

The hour and a half car journey back to Dad's house in La Push, the Quilette reservation was surprisingly not awkward. We had a lot to catch up on and even though trying to get information from him was like trying to draw blood form a stone, we got on pretty well. He told me a little about the reservation and his job as an IT consultant in Port Angeles. I could tell that was one part of his life he was very proud of - not many Quilettes completed their education and the ones that did were usually content to get a job on the rez. It was also the only thing about himself he seemed happy to talk about. Mostly he asked questions, and I answered and tried to get information from him, without much success.

When we got to his house, he dropped me off with my bags, saying he had to get some milk in the shop. I thought it was kind of odd that he wouldn't even show me around first but I shrugged to myself and let myself into the house, which was left unlocked as he'd said. I should have known then. Who leaves a door unlocked when there's nobody home and goes away on a 3 hour round-trip? I left my bags just inside the door and moved soundlessly through the house, exploring. It was nice, all modern deco, but not exactly _homely_. Weird that I would think that, I'd never had a home in my life.

"Who are you?" a dark voice suddenly said form behind me.

I whirld around, caught off guard. My body instantly panicked, before my mind could even comprehend what was happening. A life of moving into strange neighbourhoods, being the new girl in some not very nice schools, and not a few creepy boyfriends of my mother had taught me to trust my instincts and to react. By the time my mind had caught up, I had turned completely around and skittered back 3 metres so my back was against the wall. My eyes had taken in the exits: a door to the left of the speaker and a window on the wall to the right of me. Only then did I look at the man who'd snuck up on me. Tall, dark and well-built, I almost mistook him for Jacob for a split second. But his muscles weren't quite as weel defined, despite the fact he was wearing no top, and he was a couple of inches shorter. Then my eyes took in his features, which were somehow familiar; dark, heavy eyebrows, a strong jaw, and a straight nose. He looked a few years older than me, maybe 27 or 28. He was pretty good looking, but I didn't find him attractive. He was too familiar looking, and there was definitely anger bubbling there under the surface, which didn't help settle my pounding heart. At the moment he looked surprised, although whether it was me or my reaction to his question I couldn't tell. Which reminded me, I stood up straight and stepped away from the wall, changing my body language and expression to one of cool confidence, even though my heart was thudding in my chest and my hands felt clammy.

_As long as he isn't a murdering burgular, I'll be fine, _I thought, grinning mentally, which settled me down.

"I might ask you the same question," I replied calmly. He looked almost impressed at my change in demeanor.

"Sorry didn't mean to scare you," he said, as if speaking to a dim-witted child. My chin jerked up immediately in response and my voice was frosty.

"You didn't." We both knew I was lying but I wasn't going to back down on this. If there was one thing I hated, it was being treated like a child. I had taken care of myself my whole life and he had no right to talk to me that way. I glared at him, refusing to break eye contact. He stared back for a few minutes before a mocking smile spread over his face as he closed the space between us and stuck his hand out.

"Paul Lahote at your service," he paused. "Your in my house." My head spun. Another man living in the same house as me? That sort of seemed like information I should have been given! Assuming he was telling the truth, and I thought he was, that would make him what? He had the same surname as my Dad, so he was what relation to him? His nephew? Did he have a younger brother? I couldn't remember. Or _Son?_ Could this man be my brother? There was certainly a strong enough family resemblence between him and Dad.

But Dad would have told me wouldn't he? I realised I hardly knew my father, what would make me think he wouldn't do this?

Although my thoughts were swirling, my face remained a careful mask and I reached for his hand, wondering why he hadn't recognised me. Was he just not expecting me yet? Was it possible he hadn't known of my existance as I hadn't known of his? If he lived here as he said, how could he not know his housemate (whatever their relationship) had a daughter who was arriving from a country 3,000 miles away today?

"Aoife Murphy," I replied, using my mother's maiden name as I had my entire life. His skin made contact with mine and I almost yanked my arm back in shock. His hand was so warm! It felt as if he had a fever, despite looking perfectly healthy otherwise. His face showed no recognition to my name. So he didn't know my name, didn't recognise me and didn't seem to be expecting anyone. Hmm, more investigation needed. "So that makes you Brian's -?" I questioned, my face and voice still emotionless.

"Son," he answered brusquely, his face darkening when I mentioned his father's name. I briefly wondered why before I registered his words. _I have a brother. A BROTHER. _Well a half-brother, I assumed, but still! How hadn't I known this before? He was obviously older than me, although the closer I looked the younger his face looked. Still a good few years older than me, I decided. Why hadn't I known about him. I know I didn't have a close relationship with my Dad but this is ridiculous! And where was his mother? Was she still around? Am I basically bursting in on a family? I shuddered at the thought.

"Now, would you mind explaining to me what your doing here? If you were going to nick the telly, now would be a good time to leave," he added, only half joking. I hesitated. Did I really want to be the person to tell him I was his sister? I didn't even know the guy. Well it's not like I have much choice, I thought wishing Dad would hurry up with the milk. I racked my brains, but no good excuse would come to mind and he would have to find out eventually. It might as well be now. I took a deep breath and explained in a rush.

"I'mmovinginheretodayI'mBrian'."

"Whoa," he laughed, a beautiful happy laugh that didn't fit in with his anger and huge body. It was like a memory of a time gone by. "Slow down! Can you say that again but a bit slower?"

I looked at the ground and then squaring my shoulders looked him in the eye.

"I just moved here," I explained simply. The rest could come later.

"To La Push you mean?" he asked.

"To here," I gestured to my surroundings. He continued to look puzzled. "Into the house".

His expression froze, then he burst out laughing. I continued to look at him with my expression calm and under control until he stopped.

"You can't be serious."

"I am."

"You can't just decide to move into someone's house," he started laughing again. I decided it was time to be honest, if just to stop him laughing at my expense.

"I didn't decide. I didn't even want to come," I admitted. I hesitated. "My mam died so the courts sent me here to live with my dad."

"Your dad?" his face looked puzzled now.

"Yes. Brian's my dad too." I watched him apprehensively as he absorbed that. First he looked confused. He was staring at me and as the truth slowly dawned on him, his face went white and then filled with anger . This really upset him. I mean he got so angry he started to shake! I know I might not be the easiest person to be around but wasn't this a bit of an overreaction? Okay yeah, I wish Dad had told me I have a brother but what can I do about it? What's done is done.

Apparently Paul didn't have as philosophical an outlook on the situation. He was still shaking, and I could almost see the clogs of his brain turning.

"How old are you?" he spat at me.

"Sixteen," I replied smoothly. "And yourself?" His expression changed briefly to one of astonishment at my my apparent lack of fear in the face of an angry giant. I've faced a lot worse. My mam always had money but that didn't stop us living in the roughest parts of town, where used needles, guns, hookers and gangs were just part of daily life. A little anger wasn't going to scare me.

"Eighteen," he practically growled. Now it was my turn to be shocked. _Eighteen?_ Was the guy on steroids or something?

"Hmm, never thought I'd have an older brother," I remarked. I wasn't really aiming the comment at him, more thinking aloud.

"So you knew nothing about this either?" he asked, his shaking slowly stopping.

"Not until you said you're Brian's son. I guess we have different mother's, yeah?"

He hadn't thought about that, I could see. As he thought, his anger returned in full force.

"Your sixteen?" I nodded. " That means my parents were still together when you were born," he glared at me as though it were my fault Brian decided to have sex with another woman when he was married to Paul's mother. I told him as much, which might not have been the greatest idea given his current state of mind but I'm not the type of person who holds back. That's got me in more than one fight over the years.

He reacted as expected, more glaring, more shaking. The shaking got so bad, he was almost vibrating. It was as though he was going to burst out of his skin! With one last look at m, he ran out of the room, and I heard the back door slam. Less than a second later I glimpsed him sprinting towards the forest which came within a few metres of the back porch. Wow could he run fast! A few moments later a wolf, which he must have disturbed with his crazy running, howled nearby. I shivered thinking how close the animals got to my new home.

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Please review! I wouldn't have written the next chapter this fast only for the reviews so if you want them quickly, leave a comment, good or bad :)


	3. Chapter 3

After hanging around for another half an hour or so I realised that Dad hadn't just ran to the shop for milk. Okay yeah, so I wouldn't be the biggest fan of telling my giant, overgrown son that I cheated on his mother but that didn't mean it was okay for him to leave me to do the dirty. I mean, after all he was supposed to be the adult or I wouldn't even be there. The more I thought about, the more irritated I got until I was pacing the narrow hallway in exasperation. I sighed, it wasn't like I could even go to my room because, oh yeah, I don't have one yet.

"Ugh, I give up," I muttered eventually and yanking one of my suitcases towards me, rooted around through my carefully folded clothes until I found a pair of tiny black yoga shorts, a hot pink sports bra, and a light blue tank top. I slipped into the tiny bathroom under the stairs and after spending a few seconds looking for the light quickly changed. Once I was dressed, I yanked on a pair of sports socks and tattered runners and slowly stretched. I loved this feeling, when my mind felt completely at one with my body.

Moving quickly now, I slipped out the front door. It was raining and a bit cold but I barely even shivered; Ireland is called the green isle for a reason. I shut my eyes and breathed in deeply, trying to imagine myself back home. I gave up almost immediately, the air just smelled so different. Sighing again, I pushed off down the road and settled into my natural five minute mile pace. I'm naturally inclined to stress, and after my childhood of running and changing everything every few months, I'm an irritable bitch unless I get my run every day. My mam always said I should start running properly, make a career but we never stopped moving long enough for me to join a club, never mind making it to a high level. Besides running is when I feel happiest, relaxed, in control and completely comfortable. I don't want to ruin that just for fame.

I ran along the forest-lined road for maybe five minutes before coming to an opening onto a trail. I hesitated, afraid of getting lost but then shrugged. What was the worst that could happen? I pushed the howls of the wolf that immediately came to mind and started slowly down the trail, careful of twisting my ankle on the forest path. To my surprise the trail was fairly smooth and wide, leaving me ample room to run. I smiled, listening to the sound of the wind in the trees and the soft rustling of life moving around me. This is why I don't wear earphones while running; it ruins the magic of being outside.

For another fifteen minutes or so, I followed the path into the woods, mind wandering as I trekked deeper. I really liked this trail, and was considering making it my usual route. It was peaceful, but alive and wild at the same time. I was thinking of turning back, not wanting to get lost when I heard a rustling noise coming from my right. I know, I know, wasn't I just saying how much I liked the noises? But this one was different. The others were obviously made by squirrels and the like. This one sounded big enough to be a bear or maybe a horse. I slowed down and stopped, standing perfectly still on the trail other than my eyes scanning the treeline. It's weird how much you can hear when you really focus. All of a sudden, I could hear all the tiny movements of a forest from the rustlings of little animals, to the wind blowing and a frightened call of an unknown bird. I just hoped it was me that frightened the bird. But the loudest noises of all were my pounding heart and heavy breathing. I almost laughed at that, I could run for hours with barely any exertion but throw a strange noise in there and I sound like I'm 6oo-pounds and running for the bus.

Laughing out loud at myself, I turned and continued into the forest, refusing to be scared away by something that, even if it was dangerous, I could probably outrun or at least climb up a tree to avoid. Still laughing, I ran for another ten minutes or so before turning around and heading home. I'm completely focused on my body's rhythm, not much going through my mind when I hear the noise again, this time even louder. I skitter for a second and consider stopping and climbing a tree, but decide to keep running and ignore the noises. It didn't help when the noises followed me along the path as though whatever it was was running alongside me but I was determined it wasn't going to bother me so there was really no point panicking. I mean in all honesty, it was probably my imagination making it louder than it was. Hell, it was probably an innocent squirrel or something.

Even so, I upped my speed slightly and flickered a sideways glance every few seconds but my eyes were unable to pierce the thick foliage so I was stuck with a continuous view of trees and the occasional bush. It had taken me around half an hour to get this far into the forest, so even with my increased speed it would probably take at least 20 minutes to get back as far as the road and then I was still in the middle of nowhere. At first I was nervous. Okay, truthfully I was downright terrified but after a few minutes of it just running alongside me, I kind of calmed down. It was weird but it was relaxing actually, like having a running partner but with no expectations and no wish to invade your personal space. I smiled to myself, and finished my run at my regular pace, relaxed. It kind of made me feel like I had a protector. I giggled as I turned back onto the road. I stopped and stared into the forest and for a moment I thought I saw a mountain of grey fur. Then it was gone. I sighed, wishing I knew what it was. Sighing again, I headed back to the house, much happier than when I had left my new home.


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